


I Know What You Want

by ChristineCan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sexual Content, Sexual Inexperience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 09:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1977501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChristineCan/pseuds/ChristineCan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa knows what Petyr wants and she will do whatever it takes to get him to admit it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know What You Want

“I know what you want,” she heard the words escape her lips, shocked at how easily they poured out of her mouth. She had known for some time now of Petyr’s affections toward her, but had never dared to speak them aloud. But in this moment she felt brave and empowered.  She was determined to get a confession out of the man.

“Do you?” he said, looking deep into her eyes without giving her a hint of his true emotions. “Tell me Alayne, what is it that I want?”

“The one thing all men want,” she said boldly.

“I’m afraid you have judged me wrongly, my sweetling. You see, I don’t want that  _one_  thing; I want  _every_ thing, every last inch of it.” Sansa watched his eyes drop to her chest. His gaze aroused her unexpectedly, causing the buds of her breast to stiffen behind her thin nightdress.

She would not let him win so easily. “Of course, how silly of me to think such a clever and powerful man would be so foolish as to succumb to temptations of the flesh,” she said. Teasing him with her words as well as her actions as she traced her finger over the glossy bit of skin peaking out from his silk robe; an old wound. She wondered if he bore an identical scar on his heart, and feared for a moment she would reopen that wound if she continued to toy with him this way. But she was insistent on proving a point, he wanted her and she knew it. She needed to hear him say the words.

He grabbed her firmly by the wrist and held it above her head. “Control, it is all about control. Even the most intelligent man can fall victim to a woman’s beauty; the softness of her breasts, the delicate curve of her hips, the warmth of her cunt.” Petyr’s free hand found its way from her shoulder to its resting spot right below her left breast, letting his thumb trail along her every curve on the way down. The heat of his hand and its proximity to her breast caused her mind to grow fuzzy while her thighs grew slick.

“And what if a man loses that control? Are all his other wants forgotten?"

Petyr had gradually inched himself closer to her so his lips nearly brushed against hers when he spoke. “Far from it, if he only allows himself but a moment of pleasure. However, anything longer and he might very well lose himself forever.”

She had been so enthralled in the conversation; it was not until she felt the coldness of stone against her backside that she realized he had backed her into the corner of her chamber.

His eyes explored her body, filling with lust before they met hers. “You are a true beauty, my sweetling. A woman many men would certainly lose themselves inside of. “

He removed his hand from her waist to grab hold of her other wrist; leaving both her arms pinned to the wall behind her. She felt the full weight of his body as he pressed himself against her. The heat of his enlarged manhood against her sex thrilled her in ways that made her ashamed, causing her face to turn a deep hue of red. A man’s lust was still foreign to the young girl, but she enjoyed his excitement more than she was willing to admit. If she could not get Peytr to tell her how much he wanted her, she would make him show her.

“But a clever man would not lose himself. A clever man knows how to control his desire, to prevent a moment of pleasure from becoming a lifetime of lust. But is a moment of pleasure really enough to satisfy such a man?”

“There is only one way to know for sure,” he said before pressing his mouth hard against hers. His kisses were deep and hungry, as though her lips had unleashed something animal in him. His tongue alternated between darting skillfully between her lips and lightly tracing over them. He kissed her with his whole body, running his hands down the curve of her spine and cupping her bottom. He slid one hand down the back of her thigh till he reached the hem of her nightdress. The fabric bunched up about her hips as his hand slid back up her bare thigh and reached her ass once again. His other hand quickly followed suit, exposing the milky white flesh of her rear.

His hands did not linger, but rather continued their journey upward, meeting at the small of her waist. His long fingers nearly touched one another as his hands encompassed her.

Sansa began to grow impatient as she felt the ache in her loins become more and more prominent. His hands explored her body, fingers trailing all over her skin but not yet where her body yearned for them most. She must have audibly expressed her frustration with Petyr’s procrastination because he had suddenly pulled away from her kiss with a smirk on his lips, “Anxious now, are we?” he said.

Sansa blushed. Had she whined? Was she that weak to let her lady parts blur her mind. She needed to regain control of the moment by weakening him the only way she knew how. “Sorry, my lord. I am such a stupid girl, to let my desires cloud my mind this way. I am embarrassed of the dampness between my legs, but you are just so good. Perhaps it’d be best if I go.”

She tried to turn away but before she could he pinned her back against the wall. He did so with such force it almost unnerved Sansa, nearly regretting her decision to stir up such feelings in Lord Baelish. But before she had time to collect her thoughts, she felt Petyr’s knee between her legs, spreading her thighs.

He slowly lifted her nightdress until she was fully exposed, pulling it over her head. He took a moment to admire her before placing his palm against her sex. His fingers explored her folds, glazing herself with her own wetness. She had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from whining again, but she didn’t have to hold back for too long. She let out a gasp as she felt him slip one finger inside her. At first she felt a slight discomfort in the way he felt, but after some time passed she realized her moans had turned to ones of pleasure. While his one hand beckoned her, his free hand fondled her bare breast, circling his thumb around her hardened nipple. A smile spread across his face as she closed her eyes and threw her head back in ecstasy.

“Do you like that, my dear?” Petyr questioned her.

“Yes,” Sansa managed to respond.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Father,” she said between breaths.

“Good girl,” she could hear his grin widen, even with her eyes closed.

She became so caught up in the pleasure of his expert hands; she had almost forgotten her goal. All she had done so far was prove how much she enjoyed his touch. She needed him express his weakness for her.

Without hesitation, she reached out and slipped her hand into his robe and felt the heat of his manhood. It was larger than she expected and grew even more in size when she tightened her grip. She stroked it lightly, not quite sure what she was doing or how it should be done. Although, the look on Petyr’s face and his shortened breath was all the confirmation she needed to know he was pleased. There was darkness in his eyes when he looked up at her; darkness she had never seen before. The intensity of his pleasure stirred something inside her. Power; she felt powerful as she caused this cunning man to lose control with a flick of her wrist.

But as soon as he seemed to begin to really enjoying himself, he pulled away from her. “I’m afraid I must leave,” he said abruptly.  

Sansa was confused, “Did I do something wrong?”

Petyr’s smirked, “No, of course not, sweetling. It is just that my moment of pleasure is nearing its expiration and I fear I am on the verge of loosing myself. You see, I want you my darling. More than you could imagine. But as I said before, I want  _many_ things. Things that require me to keep my wits, which I very well might lose if I allow myself to remain here with you any longer. And that would be bad for the both of us. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

Sansa returned his smile, internally claiming victory in her challenge, “Of course not, Father.”

“Good. Glad to know we are in agreement. Goodnight, Sansa.” Shocked to hear him call her by her true name, she almost forgot to respond.

“Goodnight Petyr.” As he closed her bedroom door a wild grin spread across her face. She liked to think all of what she had done was to get him to confess, but a dark part of her mind knew it was more than that. Petyr had awakened the woman in her and she craved more. She would have to utilize this newfound desire, as she did earlier. After all, Petyr did say he wanted _many_ things. 


End file.
